Dominion Cleansing Storm | TSO Dominion of Ertrax and Pitann

[Lirka Ka]

The Storm rumbled forward.

The bout upon Ryoone had been but a start. The thunder before lightning struck, Darklight and the Third Legion were already on the move once more. Their mission was successful, even if there had been bumps in the road. A new world added to the fold, now came a time for the next aspect of their charge.

Reclamation.

Ertrax, a world long since in the dominion of the Sith since the empire was still in but a fledgling state. A world marred in the days when Kainite and Eternalist brawled. Yet such a thing was a distant memory now, the Ertraxi had been given the means to rebuild after the Malsheem's ravaging. To rise again in the glory of the Empire.

And then, planeshift.

Ertrax was cast asunder, flung across space to where it now sat. Distant, cold, away from the guiding dark light of the Sith. The Third arrived with the rumble of the Darklight's storm generator once more, a roving band of vessels formed from the many worlds of the Empire - of which Ertrax had been exempt, due to those technicalities of cosmic calamity. It should have been a moment of triumph, of the lost brought back into the fold.

It was not.

Perhaps it did not come to much surprise that a people so ravaged by the Sith in the past did not speak kindly to the notion of returning to the fold. Chaos-bringers, they shouted. Sinful slaves of disorder, they jeered. Ertrax's absence had been brief, but in that brief time something had changed. The world had been rebuilt, once more. Buildings arrayed in perfect symmetry, the scars of war disappeared in remade earth, in many ways - Ertrax had been reformed into an orderly paradise by something, and the Ertraxi had no intent of returning to the way things were.

A veritable army had risen up from the world, those who had once waved the banner of the Empire now stood side by side with warriors of bizarre and alien make. Yet, it mattered little. They stood against the storm now, and they would be washed away. The Imperator raised her hand, as the massive form of Darklight slowly descended into the low atmosphere - blocking out the sun.

The clawed hand clenched to a fist. A command, wordless, and absolute: death.

Objective I: Hellfire and Brimstone
Armies are arrayed, the Ertrax defense force stands ready to meet the Sith armada. A locust swarm of landing craft have burst from the Third's armada, the command of Imperator Ka was simple. All that stand against the Storm are to be washed away, crush the interlopers, burn their world, the beauty of what has been made here stands against the will of Empyrean's great Empire - it is a culture that no longer can be allowed to exist. Flak roars into the sky as landing craft make headway for fortifications that lay outside the main city blocks, a vast network of geometric trenches gorged into the ground - the legions of defenders, moving in perfect lockstep within. Kill under the vast shadow of Darklight, press on to the main Ertraxi settlement. The Imperator's commands are quite clear, leave nothing in your wake

Objective II: Mystery of the Void
It is not any meager force that can remake the world, while the Third Legion is prepared to burn Ertrax back down to smouldering ash and start anew - such wanton destruction means the mysteries of Ertrax's rebirth will be lost to the storm. Dash your way through the maddening symmetry of Ertrax's city, uncover what you can, see if within this hellscape there lies the information of what could possibly hold the power to reshape a world - before your fellows destroy it all. The interwoven architecture of maddening symmetry that makes up Ertax city hides many dangers, locals less than pleased with the Legion's presence, automated defenses, and labyrinthine layouts to confuse and distract. Yet, to the keen eye all paths lead to the center of the city. To a great structure that seems to have been stabbed into the earth itself - it doesn't take a genius detective to know, if anything is going to be uncovered about what happened on Ertrax. It is likely there.

 

[Darth Strosius]

Objective: 2 Determine the Cause
Equipment: Lightsaber - Sword - Dagger - Robes
Tags: Open!
--------------------------------------------

Ertrax was not a world notable in its disposition as the Third Legion's fleet arrived in its lost system, their hostility and aggression was simply to be expected given the circumstances. Given a meager sliver of liberty from Sith rule only for it to end far sooner than any on the world would have liked. Any save for whatever loyal holdouts or individuals remained on the planet, if any at all did by this point. Their defiance wasn't what drew attention, rather it was their capability to uphold it.

All other worlds rediscovered thus far had been in total disarray in one form or another for the most part, losing access to trade routes and neighboring worlds meant isolated populations and so few of them were self sufficient enough to stave off the loss of such access. Unlike the majority however, Ertrax had not wilted since it was cast away from Sith space. Rather it had flourished. Entire cities had sprouted up and been rebuilt since the last point of contact with the Sith Order, not to mention unusual and foreign warriors and defensive emplacements to guard them.

Ertrax had blossomed in the relatively brief time between loss and rediscovery and clearly they had not done so on their own.

Darth Strosius could attest to that fact, He had seen firsthand what the vile Malsheem had wrought upon the world and it seemed as though the Kainite's Imperator sought now to level it once more. Whatever or whomever had uplifted Ertrax from the ashes had left some clues in their wake but none more obvious and potentially useful as the great structure jutting forth from the convergence of the capital city's infrastructure. It's heart was something alien and the Third Legion would tear it out, of that He was certain.

As such navigating the fields of anti-air batteries was a necessity before any significant damage was caused to it. Despite the loud, uncomfortable, and definitely dangerous ride that such an assault entailed. Darth Strosius gritted His fangs together as the Shyrack veered underneath an arch to avoid gaining another glancing blow on one of its already damaged wings, muttering a silent prayer that they didn't wind up crashing into one of the buildings like one of the other gunships had just a few moments ago.

"They're blitzing a warpath through the city's main defenses but they can't spare a few artillery rounds for these fething flak guns?!" His frustrated remark garnered no real answer from the pilot nor from the troopers which were clinging onto their seats for dear life next to the masked Sith. A stance which Darth Strosius briefly joined them in as the gunship rolled to avoid what sounded like a missile of some kind. "Oh forget this." He unbuckled the straps keeping Him in His seat and marched across to the nearest blast door.

"My lord what are-" The trooper's captain was hushed by his subordinates as their Prophet wrapped one hand around a spare handle near the door while the other pulled it open, revealing the buildings and turrets that they flew over and past as they weaved through the seemingly unending clouds of fire. His free hand crackled with violet lightning as His visored gaze scanned the rapidly passing scenery, soon locking onto what appeared to be some sort of battery or capacitor for the next defensive emplacement that they were about to fly over.

A storm of amethyst bolts struck out from His fingertips and impacted the capacitors, surging them well beyond their limits until finally they overloaded and exploded in a brilliant azure cloud. An overload which traveled up the wires and conduits powering the defensive array which shut off almost instantly, allowing the Shyrack to pass over unscathed and unbothered. "Keep us low and near the guns, I'll clear a path to that damn building." He called to the pilot as His fingers arced with lightning once more.

 

[Andrial Madon]

Location: Etrax - Objective 1
Tags: Open

Her skull ached from within, a distinct ringing echoing, blocking out all external sound as Andrial's gaze stared up at the clouds above as the blast of anti-air batteries lit up the sky as if they were fireworks being fired in celebration of something...Very lethal and loud fireworks. Flames roared around her as she tried to force air within her lungs, her entire body aching. The embrace of unconsciousness trying to sink its claws into her as she fought against the growing darkness coming to the side of her vision. She refused to lose control of herself. To let It take control in a moment of vulnerability as Andrial's hand reached out for her sword, using it to help herself up to her feet.

Why had she even came to this planet? It didn't help her in her goals. She needed knowledge. She needed to figure out how to stop these Spirit inside of her from wrestling control. Yet here Andrial was, stood amongst the wreckage of her shuttle, bodies strewn across the ground. At the very least, Andrial was much more hardy than she gave herself credit for her as Andrial turned her gaze to her arm that hung limply at her left side. She took her sword and plunged it into the ground to keep it stood up, before reaching over to her left shoulder, gritting her teeth as she shoved the joint back into place. A jolt of pain rushing through her system, as Andrial then reached for her sword once more, resting it atop her shoulder. Pain was good. Pain kept her in control for now. It wouldn't last forever but it would do. For now.

As a bolt of plasma screeched through the sky, Andrial raised her blade up to catch the bolt. It didn't deflect it like a Lightsaber would, but that wasn't what Andrial wanted. Lightsabers were far too...clinical. Surgical. Her gaze moved from the blade to the Ertrax defenders that had fired in her direction as she let out an exasperated sigh. Andrial wasn't a heartless killer. She wasn't someone who'd tear through innocents just because she could. That corruption hadn't seeped into her being yet. But they had fired on her first. Twice in fact. With her shuttle that went down and now? She was well within her right to march onwards and cut through them as Andrial's lips curled into a small smirk, a small fangy tooth showing itself as Andrial prepared to let loose.

Her technique was not refined. It was not perfected. She did not fight with the refined grace of a Sith trained in an ancient combative art, nor did she show the surgical skill of one trained to exploit the weaknesses of their foes. No. Instead she fought as if she was an axe cleaving her way through the defenders. She'd hack, she'd crush and she'd slash her way through the defenders. The shuttle had crashed a fair bit away from the landing point and well...she didn't want to arrive too late to where the rest would be landing. It was time for her to kick her work up a gear.

​

 

[Darth Virelia]

"Another command post..."

Tag - OPEN



The storm had arrived.

From her perch atop the obsidian dais that served as a forward command post, Darth Virelia watched the battle unfold through a translucent hololith spanning half the war table. Geometric trenches blinked with flak signatures and pulsing defense grids, each new detonation blooming on the projection like black blossoms on a charred vine. The Ertraxi moved in perfect lockstep, each maneuver more elegant than the last—as if war itself were a sacred geometry to them, a purity in lines and angles.

How quaint.

She stood motionless amidst the chaos of strategium officers and tactical artificers, a statue cast in sovereign wrath. Tyrant's Embrace clung to her like a skin of predatory divinity, its every edge whispering menace and mastery. The glow from the hololith danced across the armor's reflective planes, bathing her in shifting hues of violet and bloodred, as though the war itself worshipped her.

The cape draped from her back swayed like a blade poised to fall.

"Sector F has begun counterbattery maneuvers," one officer barked, gesturing to a patch of the city's outer ring now pulsing with defensive artillery fire. "Twelve batteries, auto-synced targeting—our frontal dropships won't make it through unless—"

"Unless we re-task the Hollowfangs," Virelia cut in, voice cold, smooth, and bored. "I know."

She didn't raise her head. She didn't need to.

Her mask gleamed like the surface of a black star, the six violet eyes flickering one by one in an arc across the holochart—each movement calculating, predatory, inhuman. One hand slowly unfurled from its place upon the table's edge. Taloned fingertips hovered just above the projection, tapping twice upon a crescent-shaped ridge of fortifications.

"Route the second armor wave through here. They're focusing on the river choke—use it. Burn it dry. Then sweep northeast along the spires. I want the Ertraxi lines shattered like old glass. No survivors. No infrastructure. Make them ghosts again."

"Yes, Arch-Commandant."

Virelia's helm turned slightly, regarding the officer through unreadable lenses. She didn't speak. Just watched. He bowed more deeply, almost involuntarily, and backed away with the haste of one who had stared too long into a void and seen his reflection smile.

The command post vibrated subtly as another flare rippled through the Darklight's core. The generator's thrum was ever-present now, a low, infinite heartbeat echoing across the barren plains of Ertrax. Thunder cracked overhead, but there was no lightning—only the shadow of the warship, blotting out the sky like a goddamn judgment.

This, she thought, is what they will remember. Not the Eternalist stagnation. But this. The return.

She turned her gaze to a side monitor—a live feed from a gun-cam descending toward one of the trench networks. Ertraxi defenders moved like living mathematics: perfect synchrony, eerily silent, armored in white and gold and strange luminescence. Something had uplifted them during their absence. Something outside the Empire's vision. Alien technologies, perhaps. A new god. A dangerous idea.

No matter. Ideas bled the same.

She flexed her fingers, claws glinting as the runes along her vambrace pulsed to life in response. Her body thrummed with power held in check—not merely the Force, but command, structure, intellect. It was not enough to be mighty. One had to be right. One had to be inevitable.

This campaign—this reclamation—was no mere conquest. It was her crucible. And she could feel it: every maneuver, every dead trench soldier, every hololith adjustment taught her something. She was learning to speak in the language of total war.

Not the pathetic skirmishes of Sith Lords bickering over temples and tombs. Not the fragile ideologies of rebels with slogans and blaster packs.

This was a machine. A system. And she was its heart.

"I want orbital relays focused on the enemy's backline staging yards," she intoned, stepping down from the dais. Her voice echoed across the command floor like silk across steel. "Give me continuous telemetry on thermal build-up. If they're storing fuel or exotic munitions, I want to see the eruption from here."

"And if they're not?"

"Then we make them erupt," she purred, walking past. "Pressure enough pipes and even angels bleed."

 

[Sai'vhaela]

Location: Ertrax
Objective: Hellfire and Brimstone
Mission Objective: Signal Disruption Kill

• Silence the Flute Engine.

Tag: Open

Ertrax was a mystery. Conquered by the Empire during the conflict between the Kainate and the Eternalists, the world had been flung from Sith space during the Planeshift, severed for a time, from the Empire. During that brief period, the world had not been merely reconstructed, but transcended. Its cities had been redeveloped in perfect mathematical harmony, while the buildings within were constructed in such a fashion that they were eerily symmetrical. Any lingering imperfections, whether they were scars from old conflicts or even historical sites that could not be forced into flawless alignment had been excised like cancerous tissue.

For her part, Sai’vhaela admired the perfection of the new Ertraxian culture. She hoped that the entity responsible for remaking the world might not be wholly destroyed, but instead, studied. And thereafter, its knowledge recast to serve the Sith Dyarchy. Unfortunately, the fate of the entity that had cast Ertrax anew was not for her to decide.

But perhaps if she proved herself here, she might be allowed to make a case for its preservation.

The briefing that Sai’vhaela had received several hours prior had reported the presence of a semi-sentient, biotechnological sonic command unit within the Ertraxian lines that “sang” troop commands in musical sequences, allowing the Ertraxian defenders to maneuver with perfect, lag-free synchronicity. The Shikkari (and potentially others) had been tasked with silencing it, with the aim of ruining the flawless coordination of the Ertaxian defense. A coordination which had already seen several assaults repulsed, an entire squad’s worth of shuttles shot down before they could reach their landing zones, and half of an armor platoon annihilated by surgically accurate, ultra-responsive artillery fire.

The briefing had referred to it as the Flute Engine.

Crouched just behind the remains of a downed walker—the designated rendezvous point for the operation— Sai’vhaela scanned the Ertraxian lines through her rifle’s scope. A sharp gasp escaped from her lips as she took in the white and gold-armored Ertraxian troopers moving in what she could only assess as flawless synchrony, their forms seemingly dancing through blaster fire without breaking formation.

Such perfection in motion almost made her hesitant to pull the trigger.

Fortunately, for the moment, Sai’vhaela did not strictly need to fire. Instead, the Jango Jumper allowed herself a deep breath, before lowering her rifle and turning back towards the entrance to the downed walker.

If the others did not arrive soon, the responsibility of taking out the Flute Engine would be hers alone to bear.

Spoiler: Loadout

• Gloomdancer Veil
  
  • Arms
    
    • FAE/M-02 Energized Gauntlet Vibroblade - R
    • Lacera - Sith Lanvarok - L
      
      • Ammunition
        
        • 30 Disc Magazine (4)
          
          • Neuranium Disc - Void Stone Treatment
• Gloomstriker
  
  • Attachments
    
    • 1-100x FAE/S-08 Electro-Scope
    • Silencer
    • Bipod
  • Ammunition
    
    • FAE/AM-01-S4 Energy Weapon Cartridge - Ethaerium X Gas and CryoBan Coolant (8)
• Gloomripper Crescents
• Siqsa-S1 Semiautonomous Seeker Obscuration Canister (4)

 

[Lirka Ka]

OBJECTIVE I
TAGS: OPEN Darth Virelia Andrial Madon Sai'vhaela

Lirka was the speartip, always. She didn't allow it any other way, she was not the sort of commander-of-men that dawdled in command posts or analyzed over holotables, she was a blade that drove through the meat of the foe surrounded by the fires of battle. She liked to think it made her endearing to the troops, though realistically it mattered little either way. Lirka Ka fought because it was a holy venture, to enter the killing fields and see if one was still worthy to keep existing.

As she careened down to the earth aboard a gunship, she looked out to the burning skies that gleamed in the false-twilight cast upon this world by the massive form of the Darklight above, blotting out much of the world's sun, Lirka felt rather confident that today was not to be the day she died. Nay, this was to be work. But it did pay to enjoy your work, so Lirka Ka did as she always did - she preached, she raved, and she assailed the Sith-Imperial comm networks with another thunderous speech.

"Look out upon this rabble, my fellows! Look at what happens to those who stray outside our glorious Blackwall! Those who were once our brothers and sisters, loyal servants of the Empire now walk in lockstep as if they are no better than droids - loyal servants turned the most wretched of traitor! We are saviors today, Warriors, we are the chainbreakers that shall free Ertrax from that which bounds this world! The Ertraxi shall be freed from their idiocy, they shall be freed from that which has corrupted them, they shall be freed once every soldier lay dead, and every building lay burning!"

She ended it as she always did, a rallying cry for her Third. A declaration of intent.

"Ain' od'linel t'lor - glory to the strong!"

Around her, landing craft burst to flames, some would make planetfall and disgorge their murderous cargo - the worthy would place boots to earth and fight in the name of the Empire. Those unworthy souls would die burning in the wreckage of their craft while the worthy would dig themselves from muck and mire to fight on. It was why war, even one as small as this, reminded Lirka of true beauty. The hyper-violence of warrior meritocracy manifest...of course, it certainly helped that the Sith-Imperials had quite the advantage with the armada overhead. Placing a hand to the side of her head, Lirka sent out a comm message to one of the vessels above. She gave a simple, devastating, command.

"STRIKE!"

A blast of crimson from the sky as a Turbolaser blasted into the earth below, a fiery explosion and a rolling dustcloud in its wake that left a hearty crater in its wake - certainly, they could have bombarded the place to ruin before a single Sith-Imperial boot had hit the ground. But that accomplished little, the Legion need battle, they needed a true test. Lirka would give them one.

Finally, through the dust, the Imperator's lander hit the ground with a thud. Glowing emerald slit-lenses shined through the storm as she took to the field, gazing over the growing killing ground with contentment. Then, she was off. Blade in hand, she danced her way through bizarre aliens unseen and Ertraxi alike. Limbs flying in the air and shattered corpses crashing into trenchlines - all the while, the beautiful instrumental whistling of death sailed through the air as their foes struck with binaric precision.

Yes, Lirka certainly needed to snap that flute. A blur of black metal, half-cape billowing in her wake, the Imperator made for the collapsed form of one of their walkers. She'd read the casualty reports later - and see just how much scrap would be left to throw at the dear War Marshal Helix for "recycling"

Without much fear for the blasters that flew all around them, the Once-Sephi slammed into the walker with a mighty thud to finally stop her momentum. Rising from her bestial advance like the proper metal monster she was, lenses immediately turning to the form of Sai'vhaela as Lirka brought a metal fist to where her hearts might have been with a thud. Her classic salute.

"Warrior."

Now, it was time to see who else could reach the rally point with most of their limbs still intact.